The Fury is Mine- ASOIAF
by LordHamilton
Summary: How would the fate of Westeros change had their been a fourth Baratheon brother? An older, bastard brother who could be a role model to the other three? This is the story of Durran Storm, bastard son of Steffon Baratheon from the War of Ninepenny Kings and how he would change the history of Westeros forever.
1. Prologue- Steffon

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire, or any material you recognize in this fanfiction. Stories I have knowingly drawn inspiration from are "A Game of Vengeance and Justice", "The Lion With Antlers", "A Song of Black and Gold", and several other Baratheon fanfictions. Please let me know if you have a problem with any parts of my story or want attribution. Thanks!

 **Prologue- Steffon**

Steffon Baratheon cringed as he listened to the screams of pain coming from the room next door. One of the largest storms he had ever witnessed raged outside and that was saying something, having grown up at Storm's End. Thinking of his home made his heart clench as he thought of his parents, specifically his father. What was being coined the War of the Ninepenny Kings may be won with a great victory at the Stepstones, but not without cost. His father Ormund was an early casualty of the invasion, dying in Steffon's arms in the midst of battle. Steffon fought with a vengeance after that, slaying mercenaries and exiled Westerosi alike indiscriminately. His valor had not gone unnoticed and on the field of victory he was knighted by a member of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower. The memory filled Steffon's chest with pride to mix with the sorrow of his father's death and anxiety over what was happening in the room next door.

They had met each other at the army's encampment outside of Maidenpool before sailing off to war. She was a lady in-waiting of one of the minor lords who had brought his family to the port city before setting off for war.

'Alayne' thought Steffon, his heart warming at the thought of the girl he had fallen for in the last few months, 'I am sorry for putting you through this pain'.

Their first meeting was at a feast held by the Lord of Maidenpool, the seat of House Mooten. It was a grand affair, featuring some of the great lords of the realm who were set to put an end to the Blackfyre pretenders once and for all. Even the king, Jaehaerys II, came in support of the men after his ascension of the throne. Steffon, his courage enhanced by quite a bit of wine, had seen Alayne from across the hall sitting with the other lesser ladies. Their eyes had met and before he knew it, he had crossed the hall and asked Alayne to dance. The entire night the two had danced, laughed, drank and got to know each other. After Steffon kissed Alayne goodnight and retired back to the room he shared with other noble squires, he couldn't sleep. The two spent the remaining month together as much as possible before Steffon said with the rest of the army and in their haze of love Steffon had planned to marry her, forgetting that he was heir to Storm's End while she was just the cousin of a minor lady. Their dream of a future together was just that, a dream that would come crashing down.

Upon his return from the Stepstones, Steffon discovered that Alayne was pregnant and initially he had been ecstatic. However, reality soon came crashing down as he felt the weight of his responsibilities as Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the East. Soon after the defeat of the last of the Blackfyre's he was betrothed to Cassana Estermont to strengthen the loyalty of the Storm Lords following his father's death. When he broke the news to Alayne she was heartbroken and soon went into labor several weeks early. That is where he stood now, waiting outside Alayne's room in the middle of the night after hours of waiting for her to give birth to their child. His musings were cut short though as the screaming had stopped and the door opened.

"Mi'lord, could you please come in," asked one of the midwives, exhaustion clear present in her eyes as well as something else.

Steffon walked into the room and was immediately assaulted by the whimpering of a child and the smell of blood and . . . death.

Alayne laid in a bed, unmoving as Steffon rushed over to her, tears gathering in his eyes.

"I am deeply sorry my lord," said the head midwife softly, "but the strain was too much. Her heart burst during the final push and she died instantly, it was all we could do to save the child."

As Steffon struggled with yet another death of a loved one, he heard gurgling to his right. There to his left, next to the bed was a babe wrapped tightly in blankets, eyes wide open and gurgling in time with the thunder. As Steffon picked him up, he noticed the beginnings of dark black hair and the baby's striking blue eyes. While most Baratheon's had some form of blue eyes, many times they were a light, bright blue. However, it was clear the baby had also inherited some part of his mother's dark brown, almost black eye color, for it had the darkest, deepest blue eyes Steffon had ever seen, as if you were looking right into the ocean.

"It's a boy my lord, what will you name him?"

Steffon studied the baby, running through many family names and popular ones. Both he and Alayne were not from Maidenpool or the Riverlands so the bastard surname Rivers would not fit, he would have to be a Storm. The loudest burst of thunder yet rumbled through the building, shaking the rafters and making everyone flinch. However, the baby yelled in defiance of the storm and grabbed Steffon's fist in surprising strength. This immediately brought to Steffon's mind his ancestor who had raised the Stormlands and Baratheon line to prominence, and he knew instantly what his son's name would be.

"Durran Storm you shall be called," Steffon murmured, drawing a smile from the baby boy. 'But now what am I going to do with you?'

When it was time to return to Storm's End, Steffon had made sure that those who knew of Durran's birth were sworn to secrecy or bribed. Hopefully, with some luck, people would whisper that Steffon had an affair with a lady in-waiting and that was it. He would tell his betrothed Cassana about the boy, as well as his master-of-arms, Maester, and Castellan back at Storm's End and that would be it. Any children he had in the future would have the opportunity to know their elder brother, but it would not be spoken of in public and they would not be raised together. He would not bring that much shame on Lady Estermont.

On the journey home Steffon entrusted Durran to one of his childhood friends, Ser Roland Gate, who was only a few years older than him and starting a family of his own. Roland would raise Durran like his own son and Steffon was assured that Roland's wife, Brigit (who had given birth a girl of their own recently), would love to have Durran. While the young family would live at Bronzegate, the distance between it and Storm's End was minimal and Roland often visited Storm's End, so Steffon would be present in Durran's life, albeit from a distance.

Steffon enjoyed the two week journey from Maidenpool as he was able to spend plenty of time with his son and prepare for their eventual separation.

'Durran is unlike any child I have every encountered' Steffon pondered as they neared Bronzegate. 'Despite his young age he is very alert and seems to understand much of what is happening around him,' Steffon let out a chuckle as Durran gave a gargle-yell at the sight of the imposing castle, 'he certainly inherited the typical Baratheon traits as well, a quick temper, quick to laugh and more defiant the Durran Godsgrief himself.'

The people of the towns surrounding Bronzegate gave the returning Stormlord and his soldiers a hero's welcome as well as showing great respect to the fallen Ormund. Steffon would bury his father's bones with the rest of the Baratheon line in the depths of Storm's End in the following weeks, allowing the houses sworn to the Baratheons to pay their respects and swear fealty to their new lord. As the convoy rode through the gates of Bronzegate to cheers and yells with banners waving in the wind, Steffon spotted Roland with baby Durran in his arms turn down a side street towards a beautiful brunette with dark hair and a fierce gaze, a no greater embodiment of a lady of the Stormlands.

Steffon watched on in sadness as Roland gave him one last sad glance before allowing himself to be embraced by his wife and to introduce her to her new son. Steffon gave a small smile as Roland gazed in wonder down at his new daughter before riding back to the fanfare.

'May the Seven bless you, Durran Storm, with your new family, I will watch over you from afar.'

Little did he know how Durran Storm would help shape the fate of Westeros and his own family's fortunes.


	2. Roland I

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire, or any material you recognize in this fanfiction. Stories I have knowingly drawn inspiration from are "A Game of Vengeance and Justice", "The Lion With Antlers", "A Song of Black and Gold", and several other Baratheon fanfictions. Please let me know if you have a problem with any parts of my story or want attribution. Thanks!

 **Roland I**

264 AC (Durran 4 years old)

Roland Gate was an unremarkable man, of average height and looks with shoulder length brown hair and green eyes. He had a quiet demeanor, often observing his surroundings and standing apart from the action, but underneath that unobtrusiveness you would be hard pressed to find a more reliable knight, or friend. Friends with Lord Steffon for much of their life, growing up together at Storm's End (Roland as the second son of a minor noble very close to the great fortress), he was proud of his friendship with the lord of Storm's End and Steffon had been nothing but generous and kind to his family. Steffon recommended him to be a member of the lord of Bronzegate's household guard and helped Roland come up with a dowry when he married Brigit. However, all of this paled in comparison to the honor Steffon bestowed on him by giving Roland Durran to raise.

'However exasperating that can be at times' sighed Roland watching Durran chase his daughter Ariana around their rooms while Brigit scolded them. 'He is so full of life, just like both his parents, but where Steffon had always been cautious, and from what he could tell Alayna was very much a proper lady, Durran constantly sought out new adventures and wonders. The mischief he got into was only matched by his charm, which was tempered by a ferocious temper when aroused.'

"Durran, come here please!" called Roland as Brigit scooped up Ariana. Durran ran over (he never seemed to walk) to where Roland stood alongside several travel bags and supplies.

"How would you like to come to Storm's End with me son?" he asked tentatively, worry dissipating as Durran's eyes lit up with excitement. "It would be for a few weeks as I have business to discuss with Lord Steffon and it seems there are several boys who he would like me to pick a squire from."

Durran nodded enthusiastically, no doubt already imaging all the new sights to see.

"Now, you have to promise to behave, you hear me" reprimanded Roland, hoping to reign in the young boy's wild imagination, the last thing he needed was Durran running roughshod over Storm's End servants and household. "I will be introducing you to Lord Steffon and you must be on your best behavior."

"Yes father, I promise!" agreed Durran, realizing that if he didn't behave at least a little bit father wouldn't take him on any more trips.

"Good, now go help your mother pack your things and remember to pack warm clothes, you know how quickly storms pop up." With that Durran ran off, leaving Roland with his thoughts, anxious for what the next few weeks would bring.

The journey to Storm's End took just under a week and for once the weather cooperated, blessing Roland and Durran with plenty of sunshine and warmth as they traveled through the many woods and green hills of the Stormlands. Their last night on the road Roland decided to camp outside, they would be protected by the guards he had brought, not that bandits were likely this close to Storm's End. He wished to have a long overdue conversation with Durran before they rode through the gates of the mighty castle, as once they did Durran's life would change forever.

The party set up camp as evening drew to a close, Roland teaching Durran as much as the young boy could grasp about surviving in the wild. The young Durran quickly grasped how to start a fire, skin the several rabbits the guardsmen had caught, and how best to setup camp to remain unobserved and safe. Once everyone had eaten and settled down for the night, Roland took Durran aside by the fire.

"Are you excited for Storm's End Durran?" Roland asked, taking in Durran's tired eyes. He would have to get this conversation moving quickly before the boy nodded off.

Durran perked up slightly, "Oh yes! The stable boys say that its towers disappear into the clouds and not even giants could conquer it."

Roland chuckled at the boy's imagination, "It is a very large and impressive castle, surely, but not quite that large. While it has never been conquered, it has changed hands, the last being when Orys Baratheon was gifted it by Aegon the Conqueror after his defeat of the last Storm King."

"Now Durran, you know your mother and I love you, don't you?

"Yes father, of course," replied Durran, a question appearing in his eyes.

"What do you know about our lord, Steffon Baratheon?"

"He became Lord Paramount after the death of his father, Ormund, and you have ever been his friend. You fought with him during the War of Fivepenny Kings," recited Durran dutifully, while he often found his lessons boring he loved anything to do with his father or the tales of wars and battles.

"He is a wonderful man Durran, and an even better lord . . . "began Roland, starting to choke up, "but there is something you should know, he's . . . he's your father."

"What do you mean he's my father, you're my father!" asserted Durran, getting louder with each word as tears began to form in his eyes.

"Shhh . . . shhh," comforted Roland, getting up and sitting closer to Duran, putting his arm around him. "I will always be your father, I raised you and you are mine! Brigit will always be your mother too, she loves you more than life itself. However, you do not come from us, you are the bastard son of Lord Steffon Baratheon and his lover, a lady he met before we went off to war."

"But . . . why, how? Why did he not keep me? Stuttered Durran, struggling to comprehend what he was being told as his world was turned upside down.

"You're right son, he could have kept you, many lords still raise their illegitimate children, but your father did not want you to be forced to live that life," explained Roland. "You will understand better as you grow older and learn more of the world, but had you been raised his bastard you would be forever resented by his wife, Lady Estermont. You would have been raised beside his trueborn sons and daughters, yet forever less than they, commanded to step aside or make yourself absent around other lords. A constant source of rumors, a reminder of what many would view as a mistake, no matter how much Steffon would have loved you. He wished to spare you all of that until you were old enough to choose whether or not you wanted to live that life, expose yourself to that ridicule." Roland gave a sigh, he had argued against Steffon on this, but he would not be dissuaded and Roland could not help but be thankful he had failed, otherwise he would never have gotten Durran.

Durran smiled weakly, rubbing the tears from his eyes, "So he was trying to protect me?'

"Yes!" confirmed Roland emphatically, a smile forming on his face. "He wanted you to grow up carefree and away from such resentment and poison and I will be forever indebted to him for giving me such a wonderful son."

'He's taking this much better than I expected', thought Roland, 'but I shouldn't have expected anything less, he's always been very adaptable.'

"The reason I'm bringing this up son is that when we get to Storm's End and are settled in, he would like to speak with you, to get to know you," Roland broached, "would you like to meet him? To get to know him? And to meet his sons, your half-brothers?"

"Yes father," stated Durran, growing even more tired from the night's emotions, "is that alright with you?"

"Of course it is son, he is my best friend and you two deserve to get to know each other. Now get some sleep, tomorrow will be a big day for you."

As Durran sleep-walked toward their tent, Roland felt a flood of satisfaction flow through him. His son had taken the news very well and was willing to meet his birth father, Roland's best friend. Roland's deepest wish was for the two of them to form a bond and for Durran to be happy and find comfort with is identity as the bastard of the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.


	3. Steffon & Durran

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire, or any material you recognize in this fanfiction. Stories I have knowingly drawn inspiration from are "A Game of Vengeance and Justice", "The Lion With Antlers", "A Song of Black and Gold", and several other Baratheon fanfictions. Please let me know if you have a problem with any parts of my story or want attribution. Thanks!

Sorry for the late posting, I will try to post a new chapter every weekend but in the upcoming months I will be following my brother's AAU basketball team around the country so that promise might not hold up!

Note: Chapters will start to get longer as we get more and more into the meat of the story. Right now I'm trying to provide an interesting and quality background while also being concise.

 **Steffon II**

Steffon Baratheon, master of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, stood atop the gate to the great castle overlooking the sea. To any onlookers he appeared to be stoic and poised, looking out into the hills and forests with fierce concentration. However, on the inside Steffon was anything but.

'My boy, my beautiful Durran' thought Steffon, fidgeting slightly as he checked the horizon for the hundredth time. 'It has been four long years since I stared into your blue eyes, last heard you laugh or received your smile. I know Roland has by now told you the truth, but I wonder how much you truly understand? Do you forgive me, for not raising you as my own? Do you resent me for robbing your of life here at the castle amongst the nobility, no matter how they would have treated you?'

Those doubts and thoughts regarding Durran had ever been with Steffon since he left his first son with Roland. While Roland had kept him updated as to Durran's growth and upbringing, Steffon could not help but wonder what the boy would be like. When he decided that he was finally ready to meet Durran, his wife Cassana had not spoken to him for weeks. She could not understand why now, when they had two young boys of their own, he had to bring Durran back into their life. A threat to her sons' inheritance and a shame on their family, a reflection on her even though Durran had been conceived before their betrothal. However, Steffon had been firm in his desire to get to known his first son and provide for him how he could, or however much the boy would allow.

"My lord, riders approaching!" yelled the sentry upon the gate-tower, pointing toward the silhouettes upon the horizon.

"It is Ser Roland of Bronzegate and his son and retinue, welcome them to the castle, take their belongings to the guest chambers and send them to the great hall immediately! I would greet them at once," Steffon commanded as strode toward the keep. It was all he could do to keep the nerves at bay and to not betray his emotions on his face. It was time to meet his son.

Steffon sat on his lord's chair, a beautiful darkened oak adorned with stags and antlers. The great hall, decorated with the heads of game, hunting tapestries, and weapons, was nearly empty except for a few guardsmen and his Master-at-Arms Ser Boros Morrigen. He would greet his son, Roland and his knights formally first and take care of business before he met privately with Roland and Durran, away from prying ears and wagging tongues.

The great doors opened and his page announced the arrival of his guests, "Lord Baratheon, may I present Ser Roland Gate and his son Durran, as well as knights of Bronzegate".

Roland and his knights walked in, all dressed in chain mail and lightly armed. They were dirty from the road but stood tall in the presence of their lord, with Roland holding Durran's hand at the front to keep him still.

Steffon rose from his seat, giving a rare smile that seemed to make those around him stand a little taller. "Roland my friend, it's been months since I last saw you! And you young knights, welcome to Storm's End. We will have a feast tonight in your honor, for now you must be weary from travel. You have been assigned quarters amongst my household guard and my pages will show you to your rooms in order to rest and bathe. Prepare yourselves, for tonight you shall be seated as guests of honor at my table! Roland, we will conduct our business in my solar, come you may bring young Durran as well."

 **Durran I**

Steffon, Roland and Durran sat in Steffon's solar, eating lunch while Steffon and Roland discussed the squires Roland and his knights would be bringing back to Bronzegate. In the Stormlands with their martial tradition, almost all noble born and sons of well-to-do families squired for knights and lords at nearby castles and with such an established tradition the training of squires throughout Baratheon lands was much the same. This assured lords that knights and free riders who they took into their service who had squired under Stormland knights were properly trained. Squiring did not happen for purely political reasons. Finally the lord and his friend finished their business and looked to Durran.

Durran had been fidgeting for the better part of an hour, trying to remain well behaved but struggling with all the new sights and wonders around him. The solar overlooked the sea which he was dying to see, never having been anywhere near the sea before. While the solar itself was tastefully and modestly furnished, what caught the young boy's attention were the many weapons on the walls. In place of honor above the fire was Lord Baratheon's late father Ormund's greatsword. Next to it was Lord Steffon's lance that he won his first tournament with. Accompanying them were numerous other examples of weapons used throughout the Seven Kingdoms and beyond; greatswords, bastard swords, spears, maces, bows, knives, axes, even a Dothraki arakh. What held Durran's attention though was a great war hammer, crudely made and never having seen battle it still fascinated him. He would later learn that Lord Steffon had it made in imitation of the weapon the first man he killed on the Stepstones wielded, a great giant of man with prodigious strength yet little wit to use it.

A cough caught his attention and he turned from staring at the weapons to where Lord Steffon and his father were looking at him expectantly.

"Do you know who I am, Durran?" asked Lord Steffon anxiously, finally mustering up the courage to talk to his son.

"Yes milord, you are Lord Baratheon," replied Durran meekly, managing not to blurt out 'my father' for fear of angering the man.

"Do you know what else I am?" continued Steffon, fearful that Roland hadn't gotten around to telling Durran the truth about his parentage.

He looked down at the question, tears gathering in his eyes as he finally realized he was talking to his real father before saying quietly "you are my father".

Steffon smiled before getting up and kneeling down in front of his son and taking his small hand in his own. "Yes, I am your father and you have no idea how long I've waited to say that," Steffon said, choking up a little.

Durran began to shed a few tears, anger welling up now that he was confronted with the man who had given him up. "But why?! Why did you not keep me? Dad said you wanted me to have a good life, but you're the Lord, you can tell everyone to be nice to me! Why didn't you?!"

Steffon leaned back, a bit startled by Durran's outburst before he started to explain:

"Durran, you have no idea how much I wanted to do just that. To claim you as my son and to show you off to the entire Stormlands! And I might have, had I not come home betrothed to Lady Estermont. You will understand better when you are older, but no matter what I commanded people would still whisper about you, treat you with disrespect, view you as less than a true-born son. My wife would have resented you and treated you coldly, indeed she was not happy about you being brought here. I did what I thought best, I gave you to my best friend to raise as his own, I knew he and Brigit would love you with all their hearts and raise you as a good person. That was the most I could give you and I have hated our parting ever since."

As Durran listened to his birth father's explanation he slowly began to calm down, realizing that what Steffon told him was the same as what his Dad told him. While he still didn't quite understand how someone would treat the son of their lord badly, he held on to what Steffon said about still loving him. He wiped away his tears and got up to hug Steffon, 'my father' he thought to himself with a smile. Wrapping his arms around his father's neck, who stiffened slightly in surprise, he simply said "I'm glad I have both you and my Dad as my fathers".

Steffon and Roland both chuckled as Steffon hugged him back, cherishing the moment before pulling away while Roland picked Durran up and gave him a quick hug before settling him in his lap. Durran continued to beam at Steffon while his father composed himself, before asking him his most burning question, "Father, can I hold the war hammer?!"

Both Steffon and Roland stared in shock before bursting out in laughter at the audacious question before telling Durran that the war hammer was far too heavy for a boy his age to hold. They did promise that when he was older he could though. This perked Durran up, "You mean I can come back?" he asked hopefully.

"Most definitely," replied Steffon, who was ecstatic with how well everything was going, "in fact, I was going to talk to Roland about this later on, but how would you like to spend time here at Storm's End?"

"Really?!" exclaimed Durran, squirming in Roland's lap in excitement.

"If it's ok with Roland and Brigit, I'd like all of you to move to Storm's End," admitted Steffon bashfully, "in fact Roland, I'd like to name you an assistant to Ser Boros in helping to train our men. The conflict on the Stepstones really awakened me to the might of the other kingdoms and how important it is to maintain an edge even during peacetime, if that's alright with you?"

Now it was Roland's turn to be shocked, he had expected Steffon would want to spend more time with Durran but nothing ever like this. After thinking it over for a moment, he replied, "I will have to speak with Brigid first milord, but I would be honored to accept the position and move my family here."

Durran couldn't believe his luck! Being able to move to this tremendous castle, to be around all these knights and explore the keep, and of course getting to be around both his fathers was more than he could have hoped for!

"Wonderful!" burst out Steffon, relieved beyond belief. "Now I know you've had an emotional couple of days and we have plenty of time to work out the details. Why don't you two get settled, I have some matters to take care of for the feast. I will come grab Durran here a little before the feast to introduce him to his brothers and then I will bring him back in time for the feast, if that's alright?"

Durran had gone speechless, 'brothers?' he thought. 'I have brothers!' With a yell he began jumping around the room as Roland agreed before catching him and carrying him to their rooms, all the while Duran could only think about the prospect of having younger brothers, he had always wanted a brother to go with his sister Ariana and now he had two!

Steffon and Durran walked across the massive castle, dressed in their finest clothes as the feast was due to start in just an hour or two. Durran happily prattled away, answering Steffon's questions about his interests and asking a million of his own. After resting and taking a quick nap, Durran was fully recovered and beyond excited to meet his siblings. Eventually they reach a small tower that was under guard, who let the two through with a nod to Lord Baratheon. From just outside the door Durran heard giggles and crying and a beaming smile appeared on his face as Steffon gave one of his own and then opened the door.

The nursery was warmly furnished in Baratheon gold with stags all over, as if to always remind the two children that inhabited it that they were Baratheons. Durran felt Steffon grab his hand and take him over to a corner where a young serving maid was playing with a small toddler of two. Steffon dismissed the serving maid with a smile and thank you, before picking the toddler up in his arms.

"Durran, this is my son Robert. He is two years old and quite the feisty one! Robert, this is your older half-brother Durran, can you say hi to him?"

"Hi 'Ran," squealed Robert, shortening Durran's name. Durran took the toddler's hand and Robert smiled and laughed before grabbing Durran's fingers and squeezing hard, making him wince.

"Robert is a feisty one, even at this young age," beamed Steffon with pride. "Like all Baratheons, he's quick to anger and to laughter and is strong already. What do you think Durran?"

Durran merely stared at Robert in wonder. 'I wonder what it will be like to be a big brother' he thought, before promising with steely resolve, 'I will always protect you little brother, and the rest of our family. You will always be able to count on me.'

"He's amazing," said Durran, before looking over to the crib. "What about the baby?"

"That is my newborn son, Stannis, my wife just gave birth to him a few weeks back. In fact tonight is partly for her benefit as well, as much as she might disagree with you being here, she is loving the change to take over her duties again as head of the household and putting on the feast."

Durran leaned over the side of the crib to get a closer look at the baby, who had ceased crying with his father's presence. Little baby Stannis was much calmer than his older brother, despite the recent crying, and seemed to be studying Durran just as much as he was observing Stannis.

"Well Durran, we must get going, the feast is to start soon and we can't be late. You'll have plenty of time to get to know Robert and Stannis once you have moved here," said Stannis as he called the serving maid back in to take care of the children.

Durran followed Steffon back to the great hall where he would meet his father and spent the trip wrapped up in thought about all the new changes to his life the past few days. He now had a new father, had met his new brothers, and would be moving to Storms' End!

The feast was one of the best in recent memory, with Lord Steffon in the best mood since his father had passed and Roland with his men livening up the atmosphere even more. Even Lady Baratheon was able to enjoy herself. Durran had a blast, eating the wonderful food, singing along with the performers and running around with some of his father's younger knights. However, while the night was still young he was spotted by Roland asleep at the table and brought to bed.

And so began Durran Storm's time at Storms' End, where his legend would begin.


	4. Insight

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire, or any material you recognize in this fanfiction. Stories I have knowingly drawn inspiration from are "A Game of Vengeance and Justice", "The Lion With Antlers", "A Song of Black and Gold", and several other Baratheon fanfictions. Please let me know if you have a problem with any parts of my story or want attribution. Thanks!

Sorry for the delay everyone! It was a crazy summer and I've changed jobs so that I'm writing for a living (sports writing) so that's been awesome. I'm just now getting back in touch with my muse, so I hope you enjoy.

Note: Chapters will start to get longer as we get more and more into the meat of the story. Right now I'm trying to provide an interesting and quality background while also being concise.

 **Durran & Multiple POVs**

 **Durran (8 years old)**

Four years had passed since Durran and his family moved to Storm's End. While at first it had taken some getting used to due to Storm's End sheer size, Durran had grown to love the great castle. He loved being close to both his fathers and able to be at the center for everything that went on in the Stormlands. That and the sea, oh how he loved to watch the waves crash against the cliffs and walls of the castle.

In those four years Durran had grown tremendously. He had begun to show some of the tell-tale traits of a Baratheon, though no one suspected the truth of his heritage. He was taller than most boys his age and well built, being just as strong as boys a few years older than he. This was a never-ending frustration to the boy as he longed to test that strength against those older than him in feats of arms, but his father and Ser Morrigan wouldn't allow it. He knew he was just as good as the older boys and sparring with those his own age quickly bored him as no one could challenge him. Little did he know that his father and Morrigan saw this as well, but were hesitant to put him up against an older opponent. Competition among the older boys was fierce as only the best were allowed to squire for the lords of the castle and their best knights. They did not doubt Durran could hold his own against them, but they worried about him being hurt by the much more aggressive and in some cases malicious older boys.

Durran was in the training yard, going through his strokes with a weighted wooden sword against the stake while he thought. Fighting came naturally to him for some reason and he was his most relaxed while going through the repetitions of strike and counter-strike. The combination of his strength, length, hand-eye coordination and most importantly his mind made Durran a fierce some opponent. It did not take long for him to get used to any weapon he held and he had since become very skilled, as much so as a ten or twelve year-old beginning squire, in wielding a sword and spear or mace. But he also experimented with other weapons, including the mace, axe and his favorite the war hammer. Nothing quite felt like the satisfaction you got from hammering an opponent's shield with a war hammer and knowing they could not withstand you for long.

'Right slash across the stomach, two-handed strike from shoulder to hip, back up the same way, decapitating strike, step-back, lunch and inside their guard' chanted Durran in his mind as sweat blurred his eyes and his muscles stung with the exertion. Every night he came out to the training yard by torchlight and for an hour worked and worked until sweat was pouring down him. He knew others thought he was more simple-minded and a bit of a brute as he was not overly verbose like most young boys and larger than most his age. He did not know, however, that his teacher Maester Cressen, newly brought from the Citadel to serve Lord Steffon, had recognized his real potential and conspired with both his fathers to bring it out. Whereas before his lessons with the master was pretty much the same as all the others his age taking lessons, in the past few weeks they had begun to change. Cressen had shifted from general history to that of the Stormlands and focused especially on its martial history, which fascinated Durran. He was learning about the great Storm Kings, warriors of great renown and in the midst of all this how the Stormlands had become what they were. Sometimes even his father, Morrigan, or Lord Steffon himself would join in the lessons and explain the tactics of different battles or why different rulers made the decisions they did during different campaigns or situations.

Durran finished his workout and lay on the ground, panting as he looked up at the stars above him, dreaming of fighting for his father in the Stormlands' armies or for King Aerys. However, he was unaware of the group of eyes watching him from Lord Steffon's tower.

 **Steffon, Roland and Cressen**

Lord Steffon, Maester Cressen and Roland watched their young charge practicing in the yard, each absorbed in their own thoughts about the boy.

'He is becoming a Baratheon more and more with each passing day,' thought Steffon, looking upon his son in pride.

'He already is showing prowess with weapons and a growing understanding of tactics. While he will never be able to become a lord of a castle, he will be able to make a name for himself on the battlefield.'

While Steffon's eyes glowed with pride looking upon his son, Maester Cressen observed with a neutral expression, bending all his thoughts toward the young boy.

'Ever since I noticed the intelligence behind Durran's physical attributes and changed his lessons more toward his interests, he has shown a remarkable intelligence beyond even his own father, who is known for being one of the most intelligent Baratheons in recent memory. His recall of history is impressive if it grasps his interest, and he has a keen mind for tactics both on the battlefield and as a ruler. He may not realize it, but the stories of the Storm Kings' campaigns and expansions have exposed him to economics, politics, and how to and how not to rule.'

As Cressen contemplated the potential of his young students, the final member of their trio had his eyes glued to his son as he worried for the boy's future. Steffon was still somewhat removed from Durran as the Lord of the Stormlands and Cressen saw him as a pupil to cultivate. Roland on the other hand saw the boy as HIS son, had raised him and knew him as well as he knew the back of his own hand.

'The older he grows the more Baratheon I see in him, both the good and the bad,' though Roland as he watched his son gaze up at the stars.

'He is growing in body, strength, and mind, and showing the potential he has as the first son of a Lord Paramount and as a descendant of both the Storm Kings of old and the Targaryens. But he also possesses the not-so desirable traits from both lines and I am seeing them grow as he grows in other areas. His strength and skill in combat has begun to let loose the famous Baratheon fury when he fights and I fear what might happen if he loses control. Also, the Targaryen pride will only increase the more success he achieves. How do I keep him ground?'

The three men represented how complex young Durran was becoming. The potentially fierce warrior that his peers and those around him saw. The keen mind hidden behind a façade of physicality that if tapped could achieve greatness. Then finally the vulnerabilities within Durran, traits that could be his downfall if not tempered. Pride and a fury that was nearly unmatched throughout Westeros was a dangerous combination to possess when you had ability like Durran's. Little did all three men know that the combination of those two would help forge a great and terrible destiny for Durran Storm.

 **Steffon and Durran**

Steffon paced the parapets at the very top of Storm's End as he waited for Durran to join him. From this view you could see over the entire castle, the lands and villages surrounding it, and the waves crashing into the cliffs from Shipbreaker Bay. Today was an important day in the education of Durran, where he was informed of his heritage as a Baratheon, what it meant to be a Baratheon and what it might mean for the boy's future.

Eventually he heard footsteps and labored breathing as Durran came up the last of the steps and out onto the ledge. It was a long way up to this, the highest point of the castle and even though Durran was in shape and active it still took his breath away. As he stepped out he instantly braced himself against the wind, which this high up and so close to the ocean was a steady gust that would knock even a fully grown man sideways if he was not careful.

'How does he stand there so solid against this wind,' thought Durran as he approached his real father and lord. Steffon was standing solidly against the gale, back to him as he stared out to sea, not moving a muscle as if he was on the ground. Just as Durran was about to make his presence known, Steffon turned toward him and motioned for Durran to join him.

"Durran, you are now old enough to not only learn about the history of our family, but our secrets and what makes us Baratheons at our core," started Steffon, looking down at his young son. "Do you know where your name comes from?"

"Yes father," said Durran standing up straight. "It is shortened from Durrandon, the name of our ancestors who ruled this land for thousands of years. The founder of our line was named Durran Godsgrief."

"I'm glad you're paying attention in your lessons with Maester Cressen," Steffon said with a small smile. "That is in essence our history, descendants of the Storm Kings of old and Orys Baratheon, Aegon Targaryen's greatest commander and some say his bastard brother. But being a Baratheon means so much more Durran, so much more."

While his father talked Durran had turned to face him, enraptured as he always was with the history of his family and people. Maester Cressen had taught him much of the basics but he was very intrigued at what else his father could tell him.

"Our ancestor Durran Godsgrief raised this castle with the help of his wife, Elenei, a goddess of the sea. Six times he raised a castle on this spot and six times Elenai's parents, god and goddess of storms, cast them down until on the seventh attempt he build a castle so strong that not even a god and goddess could destroy it. Magic runs through the very walls of this stronghold, protecting its inhabitants from hostile magic and it has never been conquered through force of arms," told Steffon, eyes far away as he remember his own father Ormund explaining all this to him as a boy.

"Are we really descendants of a goddess?" asked Durran, he had heard the story of Godsgrief and Elenei before but merely thought it fable, but his father had told the story as if it was fact.

"While those throughout the Seven Kingdoms will always view the story of Godsgrief and Elenei as a tall tale, you need not look farther than the Baratheon line to know it's truth," asserted Steffon fervently. "I know you have felt the call of the sea, Durran, just as I do. I could stand out here watching the waves for days on end, they calm me and I long to sail it's waves, and I have seen you stare at them just as I do, just as my father did and his father before him. Very few know this about us Baratheons, as people do not bother to look beyond our reputations as warriors, which don't get me wrong is well deserved. But they do not notice that many of our settlements are along the coast and that we too have a formidable navy. Many Baratheons have been adventurers who have sailed around the world and that curiosity will always be in our blood."

Durran stood there in silence as he contemplated what his father told him. He had always wondered why he felt so drawn to the sea and for adventure, but now hearing his father he completely understood what he had been feeling so long. However, he could not dwell on it long as Steffon continued with his lesson.

"Ever since the days of Godsgrief, our line has ruled the Storm Lands and its people. Countless Baratheons' blood has fed its earth, either in defense or abroad fighting for its glory. Due to our positioning in Westeros, we border the Reach, Dorne, areas that used to be part of the Riverlands or Vale, then the Crownlands, pirates from the Stepstones, we are constantly threatened. This is why our people have formed the martial tradition we are famous for, and that was led by the Storm Kings and continued by the Baratheons. We are fierce warriors and lead from the front, because why should we ask our soldiers to do something that we would not. What right do we have to lead them then? The valor of the Storm Lands is why Aegon Targaryen gave them to his most trusted commander and brother, he saw that he needed someone strong to lead our people and why Orys married the daughter of Argilac, the last Storm King, and adopted Argilac's standard as his own. The transition from Argilac to Orys needed to be seamless and our people respect Aegon and his commander. From then until now we have been blessed to have married even further into the Targaryen line and built one of the strongest kingdoms in the realm."

Durran felt pride course through him as his father and lord taught him the why behind the Baratheon line. The way Steffon spoke, with reverence, fierce pride and a small amount of arrogance ignited Durran's mind and made him truly appreciate what it was to be a Storm Lander and Baratheon. It was one thing to know the accomplishments of his people and know why they were feared and respected around the realm, but it was an entirely different thing to know why they had become that way.

Close to an hour passed as Steffon gave Durran a detailed history of their line, notable members, great warriors and even the family's greatest shames. Steffon made Durran feel like a Baratheon, even though he would never inherit or be recognized as such. However, Steffon had saved perhaps the most important topic for last.

"Well Durran, you have learned our families and people's history, what has made the Baratheon line what it is today, and some of our secrets. It has so far been mostly good information, meant for you to take pride in and for you to carry yourself accordingly. But there are also pitfalls to being a Baratheon, traits that have been the fall of many in our line, though others have also embraced that heritage and become greater for it. You know our words right?"

"Ours is the Fury," replied Durran, nervous as to where this conversation was now headed.

"Many believe that this is based on our martial culture and the many passionate warriors we have had in our family, which is partially true," continued Steffon in a serious tone. "But the key in our words is "Fury". That fury runs deep in our family and is the one thing I wish we had not inherited from Durran Godsgrief. He did not build Storm's End as a home, or to benefit the people, but rather as an act of pure spite and defiance against the parents' of Elenai who interrupted their wedding. Ever since, our family members have always had some degree of irrational anger or fury that is brought on by different things, whether it be a slight, battle or adventure. Some of the greatest members of our family have fallen victim to their overwhelming fury, rushing headlong into battle or other situations without proper preparation or foresight. However, the greatest learned how to harness their fury, using it to their advantage while being able to keep a somewhat rational and cool head. Now don't get me wrong, everyone is affected by the blood fury, there is no Baratheon who did not have it or could control it completely. You must always be aware of yourself and your emotions, less the fury be unleashed uncontrolled, for who knows what might happen."

Steffon kneeled down in front of Durran, who had a look of apprehension and fear on his face from what he had just been told. Steffon put a hand on Durran's shoulder and calmly reassured him.

"I myself do not possess much of the fury, it has only ever shown itself at times when I have been under extreme duress, like when your grandfather was killed," explained Steffon. "He, on the other hand, was ferocious in battle and used his fury as a weapon. He often had it under control, which made him a fearsome opponent indeed, but he could be baited which is how Maelys Blackfyre was able to goad him and kill him. You on the other hand, I believe you have the mind and the prowess to control your fury. Also, our marriages with the Targaryens have added a not so insignificant amount of pride arrogance to the mix, which does not help either. You must also seek control Durran, do you understand? But you also must not fear the fury, or else that fear will consume you."

Durran was silent for a while and it started to worry Steffon, until the young boy suddenly spoke.

"I have felt it father, when fighting or training. A burning sensation slowly building in my chest, anxious to be released upon my opponent. I have always been able to end the fight or quit before that point, and I always assumed it was the rush of battle that all men feel. But now I understand," the boy finished solemnly, looking up at his father.

Steffon saw a steel enter his son's eyes, a determination that reassured him that the boy had everything under control. He was glad that he would be able to tell Roland that the matter had been addressed and that he had finally been able to share something so precious to all Baratheons with his first-born son. Together the two stared down at the castle below, each lost in his own thoughts until Steffon guided Durran down back into the castle. Durran had now been given everything he needed to know to seek out his own fortune in life and knew what it meant to be a Baratheon, even if he technically was a Storm.


End file.
